"When the American colonies revolted in 1775, and gained their independence eight years later, England found herself deprived of a place to which she could send her convicts, and she looked around for another. She tried the coast of Africa, and found it too unhealthy for her purpose. Captain Cook had recently visited Australia and given a glowing account of it, and the government officials thought that this new country would be an excellent one for criminals. Orders were given for sending out a fleet of ships for that purpose; and, accordingly, eleven vessels, carrying more than one thousand people, sailed for Portsmouth in the month of March, 1787, with orders to proceed to Australia."

"If England had known what was to happen," said Harry, "she need not have been at the trouble of sending her criminals so far away; she might have kept on with America with only slight interruptions. She is sending us her criminals and paupers at present, though she does not designate them properly when she ships them, and most of the continental nations are doing the same thing. We are trying to prevent it, but I don't believe we succeed to a very great extent."

"Did they send a thousand convicts to Australia in this first batch?" queried Ned.

"There were about one thousand people altogether," said Dr. Whitney, "including 757 convicts, and among the convicts were 190 women and eighteen children. They had 160 soldiers to guard the prisoners, with a sufficient number of officers, and forty of the soldiers were accompanied by their wives. They had on the ships a goodly quantity of cattle, sheep, horses, pigs, and goats, and a large quantity of seeds from various parts of the world was sent out. It was not expected that the colony would be self-supporting for some time, and so it was arranged that supply ships laden with flour and other provisions should be sent from England at regular intervals. A year or two after the colony was founded one of these ships was wrecked on its way to Australia, and the colonists suffered greatly for want of food. Among the supplies taken by each ship there was usually a fresh batch of convicts, and quite regularly convict ships were despatched from England to Australia."

Ned remarked that he thought a convict ship would not be a pleasant craft to travel on. A good many people did not like crossing the Atlantic on cattle ships, but he thought the cattle ship would be far preferable to one laden with convicts.

"And so it is," replied the doctor. "According to all accounts, the life on board a convict ship from England to Australia was terrible. Remember that in those days prisoners were treated with great harshness; they were not supposed to have any feelings and were never spoken to kindly, and in many instances an order was usually accompanied by a kick or a blow. During the voyage the prisoners were allowed on deck one hour or possibly two hours of each day, care being taken that only a small number would be there at any one time.

"For the rest of the twenty-four hours they were shut up in close, stifling pens or cages, generally with nothing but a little straw to sleep on, and they were fed with the coarsest and poorest food. Coffee and tea with hard bread formed their breakfast; dinner was the same, with sometimes the addition of a piece of heavily salted beef, so hard that it was no easy matter to cut it into mouthfuls. Supper was the same as breakfast, and this was kept up with hardly any variation.

"The slightest infraction of the rules was punished with the lash, but this did not deter the criminals from making trouble. Constantly the boatswain and his assistants were kept busy in performing the floggings that were ordered, and sometimes the cat-o'-nine-tails was in steady use from sunrise to sunset. The more severe his discipline, the more highly an officer was regarded by his superiors, and if he occasionally hanged a few men, it rather advanced than retarded his promotion. A good many died on the voyage from England to Australia, partly in consequence of their scanty fare and the great heat of the tropics; but, according to tradition, a very large proportion of the mortality was the result of brutal treatment and privations.

"The passengers on the convict ship," said Harry, "seem to have been treated pretty much like those on slave ships."

"You are not far wrong there," the doctor replied; "the sufferings of convicts on their way to Australia were not altogether unlike those of the unhappy negroes that were formerly taken from the coast of Africa to North and South America. The convicts were not crowded quite as densely into the holds of the ships as the slaves were, and the mortality among them was not as great; still they were packed very thickly together, and were treated quite as cruelly as the slave dealers used to treat their human property. Occasionally it happened that the convicts formed a conspiracy and endeavored to take possession of the ship. In nearly every instance they were betrayed by one of their number, and when the time came for action they were so closely guarded that any resistance was useless. Then the conspirators were seized, and after a brief trial were condemned to be hung or shot, generally the former, as it saved ammunition and did not soil the decks of the ship with blood. When there was an actual mutiny the mutineers were shot down without mercy, and those who escaped the bullets were speedily disposed of by hanging at the yard-arms."

"Terrible times those must have been," remarked Ned; "the wonder is that anybody survived."

"Yes, indeed," said Harry; "but man has a tough constitution and can endure a great deal."



CHAPTER IV.

STRANGE ADVENTURES—AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINALS.

One of the youths asked how the convicts were employed after they came to Australia.

"At first," said the doctor, "they were employed almost entirely on government works. A city was laid out, and of course it was necessary to grade the streets, build bridges, and do other things in connection with putting the place into shape. There were prisons, warehouses, wharves, and other buildings necessary to a convict establishment to be erected. Gardens and fields were to be laid out and planted, and altogether there was no lack of work to be performed. The prisoners were required to work under guard, and the worst of them were ornamented with ball and chain, like the occupants of many a prison in different parts of the world. They were treated just as rigorously as they had been on board the ships that brought them out. Their lodgings were somewhat more spacious, but by no stretch of fancy could they be called luxurious. The supply of food in the colony was not large, and the fare of the prisoners was scanty.

"Free emigration to Australia began a few years after the convict emigration, and most of the free emigrants came here with the view to employ the convicts under contracts with the government. They were principally men of capital, and the most of them established farms or factories near Sydney and entered into agreements with the government to supply them with labor. Where they were close to the city, the convicts were sent out to their work in the morning and returned to prison at night; but where the distance from the city was considerable, other plans had to be followed. Sometimes soldiers were detailed to guard the convicts at their working places, and in others the employer himself supplied the guard. The convicts were also made to understand very clearly that if they ran away they would be caught and severely punished.

"I should think they would run away in spite of all these threats, especially where their sentences were for long terms," Harry remarked.

"It was not so easy as it may seem for anybody to escape," said the doctor. "A man could not stay around the colony more than a day or two, or a few days at the farthest, without being discovered, and when found he was sure to be severely flogged, put on bread and water, and shut up in a dark cell. If he escaped into the bush, he was pretty certain to starve to death unless found by the natives, in which case he was generally murdered. Many a convict ran away to the bush and was never heard of. Others remained there until starvation forced them to come in and give themselves up."

"Did the free settlers increase as fast as the convicts?"

"Yes, they increased faster as the word went out through the British Islands that Australia offered great possibilities for emigrants. For twenty years the military and convicts were more numerous than the free settlers; but by the end of thirty years the latter were in the ascendency. In the year 1830, there were twenty-seven thousand convicts in the colony, and forty-nine thousand others.

"By 'others' I don't mean other settlers, altogether, though I do mean free people. By that time a good many convicts had served out their sentences and become free. They were known as 'emancipists,' and consequently there were three kinds of people in the colony,—emancipists, convicts, and free settlers. The free settlers would not associate with the emancipists, and they in turn would not associate with the convicts. The free settlers wanted the emancipists to be deprived of all civil rights and kept practically in the same position as the convicts. The officers of the government used to take the side of the emancipists, and there were many bitter quarrels between them and the free settlers in consequence."

Here the doctor paused for a moment, and then asked:—

"Did you ever read about the mutiny of the Bounty?"

"Oh, yes," replied Harry; "I read about it two or three years ago. The crew of the ship Bounty mutinied, and put the captain and others in an open boat to take care of themselves the best way they could. The Bounty then cruised about the Pacific for awhile, and finally went to Pitcairn's Island, where the mutineers landed and destroyed the ship. Their fate was not known until nearly thirty years afterwards, when an American ship touched at the island, and found it peopled by the descendants of the mutineers, who had taken some women from Tahiti to become their wives. Only one of those concerned in the mutiny was then alive. The captain and his companions in the open boat made a voyage of four thousand miles, enduring great hardships, and eventually reached the Dutch settlements in the island of Timor."

"A very good account for a brief one," said the doctor. "Do you remember the name of the Bounty's commander?"

"Yes," replied Harry. "I believe it was Bligh; in fact, I am sure of it."

"Well, that same Captain Bligh was one of the early governors of New South Wales, as the colony was then called. He caused the mutiny on the Bounty by want of tact and by undue severity, and the same spirit that he showed on the deck of his ship caused a rebellion in New South Wales. Of course, the convicts had no influence or part in the rebellion, but the free settlers were very active in it, and so were a good many of the officers. Bligh caused himself to be thoroughly disliked by interfering with local trade, and also by his very intemperate talk concerning free settlers and emancipists. He was deposed and sent to England, while a temporary governor was installed in his place. To a certain extent he triumphed over his enemies, as the officers who had taken part in the rebellion were either reprimanded or dismissed. Governor Bligh came back with the authority to assume the position of governor for just one hour."

"Not a very long term for a man to be governor," Ned remarked.

"No, not by any means," was the reply; "but there was a technical advantage in it which was very important. The governor did a great deal in that one hour. He removed a good many officers and appointed new ones in their places, and he made several changes in the administration of the colony which were more or less embarrassing to his successor.

"Governor Bligh was succeeded by Governor Macquarie. The quarrel between the free settlers and the emancipists continued during Macquarie's administration. The governor took the side of the emancipists, and at one time there was a good prospect of another rebellion; but, happily, the new chief of the colony possessed more tact than his predecessor, and no rebellion was ever brought about. Governor Macquarie relaxed some of the severity with which the convicts had been treated, and this, together with his favoring the emancipists, gave him the title of the 'Prisoners' Friend.'

"As time went on, the number of free settlers in the colony increased, and so did the number of farms in the vicinity of Sydney. As I have already told you, the convicts were hired out to work on the farms. Of course a good many of them ran away, and then some of them got into the bush, where they remained for various periods, but the majority of them were caught and brought back within a few days. Dogs were used in pursuing them, and several kennels of dogs were kept at the prisons for the purpose of hunting out runaways. Some of the prisoners' beliefs in regard to the country were very amusing. The idea got into the heads of many that, by traveling overland for a few days, they would reach China, and quite a number of them tried to do so. One man wandered for a month around the bush country, until finally, driven by hunger, he ventured to approach a house. There he saw a fellow-prisoner whom he knew, and asked him how long he had been in China. He was very much surprised on learning that he was not in China at all, but on a farm a few miles from Sydney. While he was talking with the friend two soldiers happened along and took him in charge, and then carried him back to the prison, where he received the customary punishment.

"In 1798 a good many Irishmen who had been concerned in the Irish rebellion of that year were transported to Australia. They saw in the mountains back of Sydney a close resemblance to the mountains of Connaught, in their native country, and fancied that if they could cross those mountains they would find themselves at home. Quite a number of them ran away in consequence, but were doomed to disappointment. One man on the voyage out to Australia had given a good deal of time to studying the motions of the ship's compass, and he imagined that if he could only get something of the kind he would be all right and could safely guide himself through the forests of Australia. He watched his chance and stole a book on navigation. One leaf of the book had a picture of a mariner's compass. He tore out this leaf, and, thus equipped, took the first opportunity of running away.

"Speaking of these Irish rebels reminds me of something I must tell you. They were convicted of treason, either for taking an active part in the rebellion or sympathizing with it, and for this crime they were sent as convicts to the other side of the world. No distinction was made between political and criminal offenders, and the man who had loved his country and tried to set her free treated with the same severity as the house breaker and highwayman.

"A great many men were sent to Australia for the crime of poaching. Many a man was condemned to seven, ten, and fifteen years' exile at hard labor because he had taken a trout out of a brook, or snared a partridge. Offenses that in these times would only result in a fine were then punished with great severity, and a considerable number of the convicts sent to Australia in the first thirty years of the prevalence of the system were men whose offenses had really been very light. It was for this reason that Governor Macquarie and other high officials took the position that they did in favor of the emancipists. They contended that a man whose offense had been of a trivial sort, and who had shown himself to be honest and industrious, ought to receive a helping hand, instead of being placed under the ban."

"I quite agree with them," said Harry; "and I wonder that the free settlers were so severe against them."

"But you must bear in mind," the doctor answered, "that the term 'convict' is always odious, no matter under what circumstances it may have been obtained. It was not easy at all times for the free settlers to make a distinction among emancipists, and so they came to a quick conclusion by denouncing all. However, that state of society has all passed away; convicts, emancipists, and free settlers of the first quarter of this century are all dead and gone now, with, possibly, a few exceptions. Time has healed the breach, and this subject is very little talked of at the present day."

"How about the descendants of the early colonists?" Ned inquired. "Do the sins of the fathers descend upon the children, or are they all forgotten?"

"As to that," said the doctor, "I must give you a little explanation. It is not considered polite in Australia to ask a man born in the country who his father was, or how he happened to emigrate from England. That is a subject that is ignored in polite society, and, in fact, in society of all kinds. In political life, a man may abuse his opponent as much as he pleases in all ways, except that should he venture in the anger of debate to intimate that his opponent's father came to Australia as an involuntary emigrant, he renders himself liable to heavy damages. I can tell you of a case in point.

"A prominent official in the government of Victoria is known to be the son of a man who was transported for catching a pheasant. It is an open secret; in fact, one could hardly say that it was a secret at all, as every man who has any knowledge of public life is well aware of it. Once while this man was running for office, his opponent, in a fierce debate before a public meeting, mentioned the circumstance, whereupon the other brought suit, and was awarded damages to the extent of fifty thousand dollars. It is probable that the unlucky defendant of the suit has been more careful in the use of his tongue ever since.

"One of the convicts that escaped," continued the doctor, "had a most remarkable experience. He wandered off into the bush or forests, and kept traveling until the small amount of provisions he carried was exhausted. Then for two or three days he lived upon roots and leaves and on a bird that he killed with a club.

"One day, while he was dragging himself along, he came to a mound of earth, which had been freshly heaped up. Standing in this mound there was a stick, and to help himself along he took possession of the stick, which was like a long walking-cane. He observed, as he took possession of it, that it seemed to have been used before, but he proceeded on his way and thought no more about the matter.

"After dragging himself along for half a mile or more, he suddenly came upon a little encampment of native blacks or aborigines. They raised a shout as they saw him and made a rush in his direction, brandishing their spears and other weapons, and showing signs of hostility.

"The poor fellow thought his last hour had come, as he had heard that the blacks murdered every white man they came across. What was his surprise when they suddenly lowered their weapons and changed their demonstrations of hostility to those of respect! They gathered about him in the most friendly manner imaginable, and tried to talk with him, but he could not understand a word. They threw up a shelter for him larger than any other shelter in the encampment, and installed him there, and they treated him as though he were a princely ambassador. They brought him food, which he ate ravenously, and they continued to place their greatest delicacies before him until his appetite was fully satisfied.

"Well, he remained among them for years, and as he was a man of fair intelligence, he soon learned their language. It did not take him long to comprehend that he was treated as the chief of the tribe, and had been regarded as such from the very beginning. And what do you suppose brought it about?"

"I'm sure I can't tell," said both of the youths in a breath.

"It came about in this way," explained the doctor. "The Australian blacks believe, or, at any rate, many of the tribes do, that the white man is nothing more nor less than a resurrected black man. Those of them who speak English express it in these words: 'Tumble down, black fellow; jump up, white fellow.'

"It so happened that the tribe which he joined had just buried its chief, and when they bury one of their dead they heap a mound of earth above the spot, and upon the top of the mound some implement or weapon belonging to the deceased. In this case they had stuck the old chief's walking-staff in the top of the mound, and it was this very staff that the white man took from the mound where the chief was buried, to help him along on his way. When the blacks saw the man approaching they proceeded to kill him after their custom, but as he came near and they saw that he carried the staff of their chief, they at once concluded that the chief had come to life again in the shape of the white fellow. That is why they showed him so many honors and made him chief of their tribe. It was in their minds a clear case of 'tumble down, black fellow; jump up, white fellow.'"

"I suppose he was quite contented to stay with them, and not return to Sydney and its punishments?" remarked one of the youths.

"Yes, indeed he was. For years rumors came to Sydney from time to time, that there was a white man living in one of the aboriginal tribes as their chief. Word was sent him several times by means of the blacks, giving the governor's promise that he would not be molested if he would come to Sydney and tell his story, but he was suspicious, and for a long time refused to come. Finally an officer of the government went out, and with a great deal of difficulty succeeded in having an interview with him. He received the most solemn assurance that he would not be interfered with, and finally said that if a full pardon were sent to him, he would come. A full pardon was accordingly forwarded and he ventured to Sydney, where he received a good deal of attention. His story was taken down from his own lips, and afterward published in a book. After a few months he became dissatisfied with civilization and returned to his wanderings."

"That is a curious idea of the blacks, that they become white after their death," Ned remarked.

"Yes, it is curious," said the doctor, "and they carry it out in forming attachments for the white people who employed them. At a station where quite a number of blacks were employed, one of the eldest of the women used to say to the foreman of the place: 'You are my son, I your moder, and I take care of you. My big boy tumble down, you white boy tumble up. You my piccanniny.' After a time the man got married and brought his wife to his home. The next day another woman of the tribe adopted and laid claim to her as her child. The two women became very fond of each other, and when, in the course of time, the black woman died, the white one mourned exceedingly for her."

"We will have an opportunity to see some of the aboriginals while we are in the country, and then we will learn more about them," continued the doctor; "but of one thing let me remind you, do not speak of them as 'natives.' In Australia, the term 'native' is applied to a white person born in this country, while the real natives, as we ourselves would speak of them, are termed 'blacks' or 'aborigines.'"

The youths promised to bear the advice in mind, and then Harry asked how the discontinuance of convict emigration was brought about.

"It was brought about," the doctor replied, "through the hostility of the Australians themselves. They protested repeatedly against receiving convicts, and their protests were heeded to the extent that for awhile the emigration ceased; but one day a ship appeared in the harbor of Sydney with a fresh batch of convicts. Thereupon the local authorities took vigorous action, and refused to allow the convicts to be landed. The ship then went to Melbourne, with the same result. The people of Melbourne would not have the undesirable emigrants, and the captain was obliged to go around the southern coast to West Australia, where no opposition was made to the human cargo being put on shore. Convict emigration to New South Wales and Victoria ceased about 1840, and to Tasmania in 1853, but it was continued to West Australia until 1858. Since that time it has been entirely given up by the British government, and the class of people that used to be sent here is now taken care of in British prisons at home.

"The old idea about transportation of criminals was, that it rendered society at home better by removing the criminal class. In practise this theory was found to be a mistaken one. Thievery and similar crimes were found to be trades, and as fast as criminals were transported others came up to take their places, so that, practically, no matter how many criminals were sent away, their places were soon filled and the business went on as before. France began the practise about the middle of this century of transporting criminals to New Caledonia and other islands of the Pacific; she still keeps it up, but, according to accounts, there is no diminution of crime in France, nor is there likely to be.

"It is proper to say in this connection that there was a considerable party in Australia in favor of the transportation system, on account of the money the government expended here in consequence. This was particularly the case in Van Dieman's Land, which is now called Tasmania. That island received a great number of convicts, and the government expended a very large amount of money for their support and for the construction of prison establishments. Many of the public works of Tasmania were built by the convicts. For example, they built an excellent road one hundred and twenty miles long, running across the island from Hobart to Launceston. It is said to be the finest wagon and carriage road in all the country, but is now comparatively little used, having been superseded by a railway.

"The ruins of a very extensive prison are still to be seen at Port Arthur, about thirteen miles from Hobart; it stands on a peninsula which is connected with the mainland by a very narrow neck. Across this neck of land there were chained a lot of savage dogs, so near each other that nobody could pass without being within reach of at least one of the dogs. The water all around the peninsula abounded in sharks, so that if a man attempted to swim across the bay he was liable to become the prey of one, or perhaps a dozen, of these sea wolves. And yet a good many men, first and last, managed to escape from Port Arthur and get into the bush.

"Generally the runaways were caught before being at large many days, and when brought back many of them were condemned to death. At one time the keeper who had charge of the prisons at Hobart complained to the authorities of the inadequate facilities for putting men to death by hanging. He said it was impossible to hang conveniently more than thirteen men at once, and as the hangman had been very busy of late, he thought that the facilities ought to be increased so that the work could be performed with greater expedition."

Dr. Whitney reminded his young friends that it was time for them to start if they wished to employ the forenoon advantageously; accordingly, a carriage was called and the party went out for a drive. They proceeded in the direction of the lake, a pretty sheet of water in the northern part of Adelaide—about two miles long and in some places half a mile wide. The lake is an artificial one, and is formed by throwing a dam across the river Torrens and restraining the waters which come down in times of flood. For the greater part of the year the river is little more than a dry bed of sand, and one of the inhabitants told Harry that sprinkling-carts were driven through the bed of the river every morning and evening to keep down the dust. The city is supplied with water from this river; it is taken from a stream several miles above Adelaide, and brought through heavy iron pipes.

Harry wished to know the population of the city, and was told that it was not far from sixty thousand. There is a considerable suburban population, and the man from whom Harry obtained his information said he thought there was fully another sixty thousand people living within a radius of ten miles from City Hall. He said the whole population of the colony of South Australia was not far from one hundred and thirty thousand including about five thousand aboriginals.

When the country was first settled it was thought that the aboriginals numbered twelve or fourteen thousand, but contact with civilization had reduced the figures very materially here, as in other parts of the world. Where white men and aboriginals have come in contact, the latter have suffered all over Australia; their relations have not changed in New Zealand and Tasmania, and this is especially the case in the last-named colony. Not a single aboriginal Tasmanian is now alive, the last one having died in 1876. When the island was first occupied by the English, the number of aboriginals was estimated at four or five thousand. The story goes that when the British landed there the natives made signs of peace, but the officer who was in charge of the landing thought the signals were hostile instead of friendly. He ordered the soldiers to fire upon the blacks, and thus began a war which lasted for several years, and when it terminated only a few hundreds of the blacks remained alive. In 1854, there were only fifteen of them left, and the number gradually diminished, until the last one died as related.



CHAPTER V.

ACROSS AUSTRALIA—TALLEST TREES IN THE WORLD.

Our friends were invited to visit a large wheat farm twenty or thirty miles north of Adelaide, and accepted the invitation with great pleasure. Leaving the city early in the morning, the railway train took them to a station a few miles from the farm, and there the owner met them in his carriage. After a substantial breakfast at the owner's residence, they were driven to the field, or, rather, to one of the fields, where the work of harvesting was going on.

It roused their national pride somewhat to find that American reaping-machines were in use on the farm, and they also learned that the plowing was done with American plows. The field stretched out to an almost limitless extent, and it needed very little play of the imagination for the youths to believe that they were on one of their own western prairies instead of being at the antipodes.

The farm seemed to be managed in a most systematic manner, and before they departed the owner showed them a copy of the rules which the men were required to sign when they were engaged. Before signing, the rules were read to them line by line, and sentence by sentence, and each man acknowledged that he had a full understanding of the documents to which he affixed his signature.

Perhaps it may interest our readers to know something about these rules. Sixty men are employed on a farm throughout the whole year, and in the busy season three times that number are engaged. Here is the substance of the rules:—

"The bell rings at five o'clock in the morning, and this is the signal for everybody to get up. Horses are groomed and fed before six o'clock, and at that hour the men are served with breakfast. At seven o'clock the teams are harnessed, and teams and men go to the field. At noon one hour is allowed for rest and dinner, and then work goes on until five o'clock in winter and six o'clock in summer. Then the teams return to the stables, and the men get their suppers at seven o'clock. The horses are fed and watered at eight o'clock, and by ten o'clock everybody must be in bed."

First-class hands on these farms receive twenty shillings ($5) per week, and employees of other grades are paid in proportion. One clause in the rules says that any man in charge of horses who abuses them or neglects to care for them properly will be discharged at once, and forfeit all wages that may be due him. Penalties are stated for every sort of offense, all of them being in the shape of fines or loss of situation, or both. Every laborer who begins in a low position is promised an advance in pay and place as a reward of his industry and good conduct.

"There are a good many farms of this sort in South Australia," said Ned in his journal, "and we are sorry that time prevents our visiting all those that we have been invited to see; but our regret is modified by the recollection that one farm is very largely a repetition of another farm, and so we accept the situation and say nothing more about it. South Australia is a great wheat-growing country, and ships an immense quantity of wheat to England. In good years it produces fully fifteen millions of bushels for export, in addition to the quantity required for home consumption.

"Next in importance to the wheat crop in South Australia is the crop of wool. There are nearly seven millions of sheep in the colony, and between the wool and bread-stuffs, the income to the country is very considerable. We now understand the uses of the immense sheds, and the grain elevators that we saw when we landed at Port Adelaide. Large as they are, the capacities of these places of storage must be taxed to their utmost in busy times.

"They have given considerable attention to the cultivation of the grape. Grapes, apricots, peaches, and other fruits grow in great abundance, so much so that in the fruit season they are retailed in the market of Adelaide at a penny a pound, and all of them are delicious. Quite an industry is being developed in canning fruits for exportation, and it will probably increase gradually as the years go on."

Our friends were invited to make a journey on the line of the Great Northern Railway, which is ultimately intended to reach the northern coast of Australia. The distance across Australia, from north to south, is about seventeen hundred miles; about four hundred miles of the line are completed, leaving thirteen hundred miles yet to be built. It will cost a great deal of money to finish the railway, but the people are ambitious, and will probably accomplish it in the course of time.

They already have a telegraph line, running for the greater part of the way through a very desolate region. For hundreds of miles there are no white people, except the operators and repairers at the stations, and in many places it is unlikely that there will ever be any inhabitants, as the country is a treeless waste, and, at some of the stations, water has to be brought from a considerable distance. Artesian wells have been bored at many of the stations; at some of them successfully, while at others it was impossible to find water.

The railway official who invited our friends to make the journey, told them that he was connected with the telegraph company at the time of its construction, and he gave an interesting account of some of the difficulties they encountered.

"The desert character of the country," said the gentleman, "caused us a great deal of inconvenience. We were obliged to haul or carry provisions and material for long distances. Where it was practicable to use wagons we used them, but where we could not do so we employed camels. Camels were introduced into Australia forty or fifty years ago, and they have been a great deal of use to us in parts of the country where water is scarce. The conditions of Northern and Central Australia very much resemble those of the regions of Northern Africa, where the camel had its origin, or, at all events, where it abounds to-day in greatest numbers. Had it not been for the 'Ship of the Desert,' it is possible that we might not have been able to build the telegraph line across Australia. The camel is so highly appreciated here that the government has established several breeding stations for those ungainly creatures, and their number is increasing every year.

"You know already about the scarcity of water in the desert region. Springs are few and far between, and rain is of rare occurrence. It was frequently necessary to carry water thirty or forty miles, and on account of the great heat it was impossible to carry it in skins or in wooden cases, owing to the rapid evaporation. Cases or cans of galvanized iron proved to be the best receptacles for water, so far as evaporation was concerned, but they have the disadvantage of becoming cracked and leaky in the rough treatment to which they are subjected.

"Poles for the telegraph had to be hauled a long distance for a large part of the way. Iron poles are generally used, owing to an insect that destroys wood with great rapidity. I wonder if you have yet seen any of the ravages of this little creature?"

This last remark was made in the form of an interrogation, to which Harry responded that he had not yet observed anything of the kind, nor had his attention been called to it. Ned remarked that he had been told of the destructiveness of this worm, but had not yet seen anything of its work.

"If you had seen it you would remember it," said the gentleman. "The worm abounds more in the country districts than in the city, and it does not seem to get so much into the city houses as it does into those of the rural districts. Suppose you settle in South Australia, and build yourself a house or buy one already built, and proceed to take your comfort. Some day when you are sitting in your parlor you suddenly feel a leg of your chair going through the floor, and down you go with a crash. Somebody runs to your assistance, and the additional strain put upon the floor causes the break to increase, and, together with the person who has come to your aid, you go down in a heap through a yawning chasm in the floor, no matter whether your room is carpeted or not. If it is the former, the ravages of the worm have been quite concealed by the carpet; while in the latter case the surface of the wood presents the same appearance, while the whole interior of the plank or board has been turned to dust. This sort of thing has happened in many an Australian house, and will doubtless continue to happen."

Harry asked if there was any way of preventing the ravages of this destroyer.

His informant replied that there were two or three kinds of wood which these insects would not touch. Unfortunately, however, they were higher priced than ordinary wood, and consequently the temptation was to use the cheaper article. Houses could also be built of cement, brick, or other substances which defied the wood worm, but these, again, were expensive and could not be afforded by newly arrived emigrants, whose capital was generally very limited.

"Returning to the subject of the telegraph," the gentleman continued, "we found a great deal of trouble with the insects destructive to wood, and then, too, we had considerable difficulty with the blacks, though less than we had anticipated. We managed to inspire them with a very wholesome fear of the mysterious fluid that passed through the wires, and though they have burned stations, and killed or wounded quite a number of our people, they have never meddled with the wires."

"How did you manage to inspire them with such fear?" queried Harry.

"We did it in this way," was the reply. "Whenever a native visited us, we managed to give him a shock of electricity, and if we could shock an entire group at once it was so much the better. On several occasions we got two or more of their chiefs at stations hundreds of miles apart, and then let them talk with each other over the wires. Where they were well acquainted, they were able to carry on conversations which none but themselves could understand. Then we would have them meet half way between the stations and compare notes, and the result was something that greatly astonished them. Savage people generally attribute to the devil anything they cannot understand, and they very quickly concluded that 'His Satanic Majesty' was at the bottom of the whole business and it would be well for them to let it carefully alone.

"An amusing thing happened one day when we were putting up a portion of the line. There was a crowd of native blacks watching us, and the principal man among them walked for an hour or two along the line, making a critical examination of the posts and wires and pacing the distance between the posts.

"When he had evidently made up his mind as to the situation he walked up to the foreman of the working party and said, with an accent of insolence:—

"'My think white fellow one big fool.'

"When the foreman tried to find out his reason for expressing contempt in that way, he pointed to the telegraph line and said:—

"'That piece of fence never stop cattle.'

"Before the foreman could explain what the supposed thing was intended for, he walked off with his nose very much in the air and never came near the telegraph line again, as far as we know."

After a short laugh over the incident, one of the youths asked how far apart the stations were.

"The distances vary considerably according to circumstances," said their informant. "In some places they are within thirty or forty miles of each other, and there are portions of the line where they are one hundred miles apart. There are two operators and two repairers at each station. These are all white men, and some of them have their families with them. In addition to the white residents at the station, there are all the way from two or three to eight or ten blacks. The blacks in our service are generally faithful, and we put a great deal of dependence upon them. Sometimes they are treacherous, but not often, as treachery is not a part of their nature.

"I was making a tour of inspection of the line shortly after it was completed, and happened to be at one of the stations at a time when the blacks were threatening trouble. One of the operators, Mr. Britton, was accompanied by his wife. Her husband wanted her to go to a place of greater safety, but she refused, and said she would stand by his side. She was a good shot with the revolver, and promised that in case of trouble she would put her abilities to a practical test.

"The blacks came about the station to beg, and also to ascertain the strength of the company, and one evening word came that they were going to have a corroboree in a little patch of forest near the station. Perhaps you don't know what a corroboree is."

Both of the youths shook their heads and acknowledged their ignorance.

"Well, it is a wild sort of dance, something like the dances among your American Indians, with local variations to suit the climate and people. The dancing is done by the men, who get themselves up in the most fantastic manner imaginable with paint of various colors. They daub their faces with pigments in streaks and patches, and trace their ribs with white paint, so that they look more like walking skeletons than like human beings. Generally at one of these dances they wear strips of skin around their waists, and ornament their heads with feathers.

"I said that the dancing was done by the men, though this is not absolutely the rule, as there are certain dances in which the women take part, though not a very conspicuous one. Generally the dances are by the people of one tribe, though there are a few in which several tribes take part. As a usual thing, however, this kind of a dance ends in a fight, as the dancers work themselves up to a condition of frenzy, and if there is any ill feeling among them it is sure to crop out.

"The dances in the neighborhood of the telegraph station to which I referred included men of several tribes, and we knew that mischief would be likely to come of it. Two of our black fellows went as near to the scene of the dance as they dared go, and from time to time brought us particulars of the proceedings.

"We got revolvers and rifles ready, Mrs. Britton taking possession of one of the revolvers, and loading it very carefully. All along during the evening we could hear the yelling of the natives at their dance, but an hour or so before midnight the noise diminished, and one of our black fellows came in to tell us that they were preparing to attack the station.

"The principal building of the station was a block house built for defense against the blacks, and strong enough to resist any of their weapons; but, of course, they would be able to overpower us by surrounding the place and starving us out, though we had little fear of that. The great danger was that they would come upon us in great numbers, and as we were not sufficiently numerous to defend all parts of the building at once, they could set it on fire and thus compel us to come out and be slaughtered.

"The warning brought by our black fellow proved to be correct. The men who had been engaged in the dance had left the scene of their jollification and moved in the direction of the station. We could hear their voices as they approached, and it was much to our advantage that the moon was of sufficient size to give a fairly good light. The station was in such a position that no one could approach it without being seen.

"In a little while we saw in the moonlight a mass of dark figures crossing the open space to the south, and, judging by the ground they covered, there were at least a hundred of them. They advanced quietly about half way across the clearing and then broke into a run, while they filled the air with yells. In a few moments they were all around the building, and quite a number of them threw their spears at it—a very foolish procedure, as the weapons could do no harm whatever to the thick sides of the structure. It was our policy not to take life or even to shed blood if we could possibly avoid it, as we were anxious to be on friendly terms with the black people along our line. I had been thinking the matter over in the evening, and suddenly hit upon a scheme that I thought would save us from injuring anybody, and at the same time give our assailants a thorough scare.

"There happened to be in the station a package of rockets, which had been brought along for signaling purposes during the work of construction. Just as the crowd of blacks reached the station, I asked Mr. Britton, the chief operator, to bring me one of the rockets.

"He complied with my request, and I fixed the missile so that it would go just above the heads of the crowd of yelling blacks. Then I touched a match to the fuse, and away sailed the rocket through the night air.

"Not one of those aboriginals had ever seen anything of the kind before. They started not upon the order of their going, but went as though pursued by wild tigers or guilty consciences. They could not have been more astonished if the moon had dropped down and exploded among them. They gave just one yell, and it was five times as loud as any yell they had previously given.

"In less than two minutes from the time the rocket was fired, there was not a hostile black man around the station. Our own black fellows had been trembling with fear, as they knew that, in case of capture, they would share whatever fate was in store for us, the wild blacks being greatly prejudiced against any one of their number who takes service with the whites. The crowd fled in the direction of the scene of their corroboree, but they did not stop there. We learned the next day that they ran three or four miles before coming to a halt.

"We saved the station and ourselves without shedding a drop of blood. The story was told by the blacks far and wide that we 'shot a star at them.' This gave us a hint on which we acted, and we took pains to circulate the report that we had power to bring all the heavenly bodies to our aid whenever we needed them. Several times we offered to chief of the tribe to bring down the moon, or any of the stars that he might designate, but for fear that he would take us at our word, we always said that we would not be responsible for the consequences. In view of these circumstances, he invariably asked us to leave the denizens of the heavens alone.

"All the attacks on our stations have not been as bloodless as the one I have just described," the gentleman continued. "Three or four years after the line was opened the blacks attacked a station about one thousand miles north of Adelaide. One of the operators, Mr. Stapleton, was mortally wounded, and so was one of the line repairers. Both the other white men at the station were slightly wounded, and one of the blacks in our service was killed. The attack lasted only a short time, and the assailants were driven away by the well-directed fire of the people at the station.

"The mortally wounded operator, Mr. Stapleton, was placed on a couch, while the other operator was telegraphing the news of the occurrence to Adelaide. A doctor was called to the telegraph office in the city, and on learning the nature of the wound he pronounced it mortal. Mr. Stapleton's wife was a telegraph operator, and was then employed in the station at Adelaide. A telegraph instrument was placed at the bedside of the dying man, and connected with the instrument on his wife's desk. The two exchanged loving messages for a few minutes, and then the husband with his last efforts telegraphed an eternal good-by to his wife, dropped the instrument from his hand, and fell back dead. I was in the office at Adelaide at the time of this occurrence, and was one of those in the room where Mrs. Stapleton sat. Nearly all of those present were experienced operators, and could understand the clicking of the instrument. Every eye was filled with tears, and every heart was full of sympathy for the woman who had been so tragically widowed. As she received the final message of farewell she fell from her chair in a dead faint, from which she did not recover for hours."

As the foregoing story was narrated to our young friends, their eyes, too, were moist, and so were those of Dr. Whitney, who was sitting close by them. Silence prevailed for several minutes, and then the conversation turned to other subjects.

The gentleman explained that the northern terminus of the telegraph line was at Port Darwin, where connection was made with the telegraph cable to Singapore, and thence to Europe. "I suppose, in time," said he, "there will be other telegraph connections, but for the present this is the only one that Australia has with the rest of the world. Undoubtedly we shall one day have a cable to the United States, and that will certainly greatly facilitate commerce. At present, telegrams coming from your country to this must come by a very roundabout journey."

Harry asked what course a telegram would be obliged to take in coming from San Francisco to Adelaide.

"Let me see," said the gentleman; "in the first place, it would be telegraphed overland from San Francisco to New York, and then it would go under the Atlantic Ocean through one of the transatlantic cables, and then there would be two or three routes by which it could be sent. It could go by submarine cable to the Straits of Gibraltar, thence under the Mediterranean and Red Seas, and the Indian Ocean to Bombay, or it could cross Europe by one of the land lines, and then go through Russia and Persia to the north of India, reaching Bombay by the land route. From Bombay it would be telegraphed across India to Madras, and thence by submarine cable to Singapore, and from Singapore it would be sent by cable to Port Darwin, and thence by the Australian overland line to Adelaide. The message would be repeated six or seven times in the course of its journey, and the fact that so few mistakes are made in the numerous repetitions, many of them by people having an imperfect knowledge of English, speaks volumes in praise of the telegraph system."

Both of our young friends heartily indorsed this remark, and agreed with their informant that the telegraph certainly performed excellent work.

Our friends made the journey along the line of railway to which they had been invited. They found it interesting though not altogether free from monotony, as there was an excessive amount of sameness in the country through which they traveled. They passed through a range of low mountains which were not sufficiently broken to be picturesque. They crossed several dry or slightly moistened beds of rivers, where indications were clearly visible that in times of heavy rains these dry beds or insignificant streams were turned to floods. Here and there the line crossed immense sheep farms and also great wheatfields, but there were wide stretches of land which seemed to have no occupants whatever. Most of the country was open and free from trees. Then there were other parts where the line passed for miles and miles through "scrub," and at irregular intervals they came upon patches and stretches of Australian forest.

Harry noted that the forests through which they passed had very little undergrowth, so that it was easy to ride in any direction among the trees. Most of the trees that they saw were eucalypti, of which there are many varieties. The eucalyptus is by far the most common tree of Australia, and the best known variety is the one that is called "the blue gum." It is said that fevers do not prevail where the eucalyptus grows, and this theory seems to be developed into a well-established fact. Decoctions and other extracts are made from the leaves, bark, wood, and gum of the eucalyptus and are given to fever patients with more or less success. The eucalyptus has been taken to foreign countries, and where the climatic conditions are suitable it has flourished and established itself. The French government introduced it into Algeria and planted it at military stations, where the soldiers had suffered much from malaria. At all those stations the malaria was long ago driven away by the trees, and places that were once unhealthy are now renowned for their salubrity.

The youths observed that most of the eucalyptus trees were tall and slender. The gentleman who accompanied them said that their trunks were often found with a diameter of ten to twelve feet, and some had been measured that were sixteen feet in diameter at a distance of ten feet from the ground. The trees grow very rapidly, and their timber when green is soft, so that they can be felled, split, and sawed very easily, but when dry it becomes very hard. It is a very useful wood, as it is adapted for many purposes. The bark contains a great deal of tannin, and it has become to some extent an article of commerce.

The leaves of the eucalyptus have a leathery appearance and generally stand in a vertical position, so that one side receives as much light as the other. A valuable aromatic oil is extracted from the leaves, and is used for medicinal and other purposes. It is said to be very objectionable to mosquitoes, and Harry was told that if he scattered a few drops of eucalyptus oil on his pillow at night, he would not be troubled with mosquitoes, even though there might be many of them in the room. He promised to try the experiment at the first opportunity.

Ned asked what variety of the eucalyptus was the tallest, and how tall the highest tree of Australia was.

"The giant gum, Eucalyptus amygdalina, is said to be the tallest tree in the world," the gentleman replied. "I am not sure whether it is really so or not, as you have some very tall trees in the United States, and there are also some of great height in the valley of the Amazon River. I have heard of giant gum trees five hundred feet high, but their location has always been given very vaguely, and nobody knew by whom they had been measured. There is one giant gum tree on Mount Baw-Baw, in Gippsland, that has been officially measured by a surveyor and found to be four hundred and seventy-one feet high. What its diameter is at the base I am unable to say, but probably it is not less than fifteen or sixteen feet. New forests and new groups of trees are being discovered from time to time, and perhaps we will one day find a tree more than five hundred feet high.

"I will add," said their informant, "that the giant gum is also called the 'silver stem,' because when it sheds its bark every year the new surface of the tree, when the old one has come off, is as white as silver. A group of these trees is a very pretty sight, as the trunks are perfectly round, and very often the lowest limbs are fully two hundred feet from the ground."



CHAPTER VI.

AUSTRALIAN BLACKS—THROWING THE BOOMERANG.

"Those giant gums are not easy to climb," Ned remarked, as the gentleman paused.

"Not by any means," was the reply; "at least, not for a white man, but the black fellow will climb one of them, or any other tree, with very little trouble."

"Why, how does he do it?"

"He cuts notches in the trunk of the tree where he can place his feet, and he goes on cutting notch after notch as he ascends, making a broad spiral around the tree until he reaches the limbs. Sometimes he passes a piece of rope, made out of twisted bark, around the body of the tree to steady himself, but he is just as likely to take no rope along, and trust entirely to keeping his balance with his feet in the notches."

"Those black fellows are very accomplished in their way," remarked one of the youths.

"They are, indeed," was the reply; "and they do certain things that no white man can ever do. For example, a black fellow employed on a cattle estate will ride at full gallop and follow the track of a runaway cow or steer without making a single mistake. A white man would be obliged to go at a walk, or a very little better, and quite frequently would find it necessary to dismount and examine the ground carefully. The black fellows are fully equal to your American Indians in following a trail; they can track men almost as well as bloodhounds can. In parts of Australia we have a police force of blacks, and they perform splendid service in hunting highwaymen and others who have committed crimes and fled into the bush for concealment and safety."

Harry asked if the blacks were honest in their dealings with white people.

"I regret to say that their reputation is not by any means the best in the world," was the reply. "Like savages everywhere when brought into contact with civilization, they seem to adopt its vices and reject its virtues. They are generally faithful to those by whom they are employed, and in this respect their characters are commendable. When it comes to ordinary lying and stealing, they are very skillful. They resemble other savages in their fondness for intoxicating drinks, and when they get a little money their desire to go on a spree is very apt to be uncontrollable. They will leave their work and go to the nearest place where intoxicants can be bought, and they keep on buying and drinking until their money is gone. Generally speaking, you cannot keep them in your employ very long. As soon as one learns his business so that he is really useful, he either quits or behaves in such a manner that he has to be sent away."

Just as this last remark was made, the train halted at a station, and as our young friends looked through the window they saw a group of blacks. They had seen a few black fellows on the wheat farm that they visited, and some had come under their observation in the streets of Adelaide. These, however, were dressed in civilized garments, and the group at the station was the first they had seen in aboriginal dress.

Harry noted the scantiness of their costume, which consisted chiefly of a strip of cloth about the waist, and another strip thrown over the shoulder or disposed of in some fantastic way. Their skins were black, though not of the inky, coal-like color of the pure-blooded African negro. Their hair was curly, but did not have a woolly crispness. The features seemed to be more like those of the Malay than of the Negro race, and Ned observed that the hair of the women hung down in wavy plaits, which is not the case with the hair of the negro of the Congo or the Nile. Every man in the party carried a spear, and Ned wondered why they were not armed with bows and arrows.

"That is for the very simple reason," said their informant, "that the Australian aborigines have never used the bow and arrow; their only weapons are the spear, club, knife, and boomerang. Their principal weapon for fighting is the waddy or club, and each tribe has a peculiar shape for its waddies. This weapon is made of hard wood, and is somewhat suggestive of the night stick of a New York policeman, with the difference that it has a knob on the end to enable it to be grasped with greater security. There is a rule in fighting with the waddy, that you must hit your antagonist on the head. It is not fair to strike him in any other part of the body with these weapons, and the man who would do so would not be regarded as a gentleman in aboriginal society. The difference in the waddies is such that you can very often tell what tribe a party belongs to by examining one of their clubs.

"They are accustomed to spears from their childhood, and can throw them very accurately for a distance of thirty or forty yards. I once saw a considerable number of blacks together, and several white men of us got up a competition in spear throwing. We chalked out the figure of a man on the side of a building, and then paced off forty yards from it. We offered a prize of one shilling to every black who would hit this figure with the spear three times out of five at the distance indicated. We had them take turns in succession, and when the competition was over we found that we were obliged to give a shilling to every one of the competitors, as all had hit it three times. Half of them did so four times, and the other half the entire five times."

Ned asked what the spears were made of. He learned, in reply, that sometimes they were single shafts of wood tipped with stone, bone, or iron. Others had heads of hard wood, while the shafts consisted of light reeds which grow on the banks of the rivers and lakes. The spears are usually from six to ten feet long, at least the fighting spears are. Some of the tribes living along the rivers have spears fifteen or eighteen feet long, intended for fishing purposes and not for war.

Harry wanted to know what was the religious belief of the blacks, and what were their ideas about the creation.

"As to religion," the gentleman answered, "they don't seem to have much, and the little they do have is of a very mixed character. Like all savages, they believe in good and bad spirits, and they treat the bad spirits with much more ceremony than they do the good ones; on the ground, I presume, that it is necessary to propitiate the bad spirits to save themselves from injury, while the good ones can be relied upon not to do any harm. Some of the tribes believe in a Great Spirit or Supreme Being, while others have no idea of the kind. They have a good many superstitions, and, though not a people of much imagination, they have quite a variety of mythical stories that originated a long time ago, and have been handed down by tradition. It is a curious circumstance that some of these myths repeat quite closely the story of the creation, the fall, and the deluge, but where they came from nobody can tell."

"Is there any book where we can find any of these traditions?" Harry asked.

"Oh, certainly; they have been collected and published, but I can give you the principal ones from memory."

"The story about the creation is, that one of the spirits that ruled the world created two men out of the dust of the earth, and gave these two men a very rich country to live in. Another spirit created two women and gave one of them to each man. Then he gave spears to each of the men, and told them to kill kangaroos with their weapons, and gave sticks to the women, with which to dig roots out of the ground. Thus it came about that men carry spears and clubs as weapons, while the women perform most of the menial work. The men and women were commanded to live together, and in this way the world in time became full of people. They grew so numerous in the region where they were, that the great spirits caused storms to arise and high winds to blow in order to scatter the people over the globe.

"The tradition about the first sin is, that the first man and woman were ordered by the spirits not to go near a certain tree, as a bat lived there which must not be disturbed. One of the women went too near the tree, her curiosity having got the better of her, and the bat became alarmed and flew away. After that death came into the world, having before been unknown.

"They have another tradition that at one time all the water in the earth was contained in the body of an immense frog, where nobody could reach it. The spirits held an investigation, and ascertained that if the frog could be made to laugh the water would run out of his mouth when he opened it, and the drought then prevailing would be broken. All the animals of the world gathered together and danced and capered before the frog in order to make him laugh, but all to no purpose. Then they called up the fishes to see if they could accomplish anything, but the frog preserved a solemn face until the eel began to wriggle.

"The wriggling of the eel was too much for the frog and he laughed outright. Immediately the waters flowed from his mouth and the earth was covered with water. Many people were drowned, and all who could do so sought the highest land. The pelican undertook to save the black people; he made a great canoe and went around picking up the people, wherever he could find them, and thus saved a great many.

"They have a theory about the sun," the gentleman continued, "that is certainly a very practical one. They say that as it gives out a great deal of light during the daytime, it needs a supply of fuel, and it goes at night to a place where it takes in fuel enough for its next day's work. They say that it used to take in wood exclusively before white people came to Australia, but since the arrival of the whites, and the opening of coal mines, they think the sun takes in both coal and wood at the place where it renews its supply.

"They believe in dragons, great serpents, and other wonders, and if you are inclined to laugh at them for their beliefs, you must remember that all the rest of the world shared in them two or three hundred years ago. The creature in which they have the greatest faith is the bun-yip, which is supposed to haunt rivers, lakes, and other bodies of water, and possesses remarkable powers. According to their description, he is like a dragon; he devours black and white people indiscriminately, and can cause all sorts of misfortune. Many natives, and also quite a number of white men, claim to have seen him, and they certainly give some very graphic accounts of his appearance and actions. Not long ago an account appeared in one of the Australian newspapers, written by a white man and certified to by another white man, who claim to have actually seen the bun-yip in a small lake, and described him very minutely."

"And was the story really true?" Harry asked.

"Well, yes, I suppose it was. That is to say, I believe, as do many others, that there is an amphibious animal living in some of the Australian lakes and rivers of which no specimen has yet been taken. The description of the bun-yip by those who claim to have seen him, and are not carried away by their imaginations, is very much like that of a Newfoundland dog or a seal. The seal exists in Australian waters, and I think that is what the bun-yip will turn out to be if one ever allows himself to be taken."

At the station at the end of the line of railway there was an encampment of blacks, about half a mile away, and our young friends were quite curious to see it.

Their curiosity was soon satisfied, as there was nothing particularly attractive about the spot. The blacks were civilized enough to live in tents, or, rather, they accepted the bounty of the government which supplied them with tents, though it was evident that they did not intend to give up their old way of living, inasmuch as they had two or three bark shelters of the old-fashioned sort, in addition to the canvas house supplied by the government. And we may remark here that the various colonial governments provide for the support of all the aboriginals living within their territory. Government officials take care of them, supply them with food, clothing, and medical comforts, and assign reservations of land to them, just as the Indian Department of the United States assigns reservations to the red men. But with all the care they receive, their number is steadily diminishing, and the day is not far distant when the last of them will cease to exist.

A man who could speak the language of the aboriginals accompanied our young friends in their visit to the encampment. At Harry's request, he arranged with the men to give an exhibition of their skill in throwing the spear, and after that was over he asked them to throw the boomerang. While they were getting ready for their performance the interpreter explained that the boomerang was a great deal of a mystery. He said that no white man, even after years of practise, had ever been able to throw this weapon with any degree of accuracy, and that no Australian black could explain how the weapon was handled. If you ask one of them to explain about throwing the boomerang, he usually says, "You throw him, that all"; and that seems to be all there is to it.

Ned and Harry watched the performance with the greatest care, and they afterwards said that they knew as much about it before they witnessed it as they did afterwards, with the exception that they had seen with their own eyes what could be done.

"First, you must understand," said Ned afterwards, "that there are several kinds of boomerangs, the difference being in size, weight, and shape. The variations in shape are so slight that they are not readily perceived by the stranger, though a black would have no difficulty in determining them. The lightest of the boomerangs weigh from four to five ounces, while the heaviest are double that weight. Harry happened to have his spring letter-balance in his pocket, and we weighed one of the boomerangs that we saw used. Its weight was about six ounces and our interpreter said that he considered it rather a light one."

"The heaviest boomerangs are used for fighting purposes and for killing kangaroos, emus, and other large game.

"The boomerang is a queerly shaped weapon. It is made of hard wood and curved like a bow, the curve from point to point being about a quarter of a circle. The piece of wood that forms the boomerang is about half an inch thick, and in the middle it is two and one half inches wide, narrowing steadily towards the end. I took it in my hand and made a motion as if to throw it, whereupon the owner laughed, and indicated by signs that I had seized it by the wrong end.

"When he made ready to throw the weapon, the interpreter told us to stand perfectly still, lest we might be injured. I asked how it could happen, and he said that the performer always selected the spot to which the boomerang returned, and by changing our positions, especially after the weapon had been thrown, we might be struck by it when it came back.

"Both before and after taking his position the performer carefully observed the force and direction of the wind, as it has a great deal to do with the flight of the boomerang. When he was quite ready he flung the weapon almost straight into the air, where it circled about a few times, and skimmed along near the ground until it was about three hundred feet distant; then it turned, made a slight upward motion through the air, and finally fell within an arm's length of where the performer stood. The interpreter explained that this weapon was called the return-boomerang.

"The man repeated several times the performance with the weapon, bringing it close to his feet on every occasion. Then a coin was placed in the end of a split stick forty or fifty yards distant, at the suggestion of the performer, who stipulated that he would knock the coin out without disturbing the stick, on condition that he should have the coin, a one-shilling piece, in case he succeeded.

"He balanced the boomerang with great care and then threw it. It made several gyrations in the air, and when it reached its destination it knocked the coin from its place as neatly as one could have removed it with his fingers. All who stood by applauded the performer, and he was given the opportunity to win several more shillings in the same way.

"I ought to mention that each time when he threw the boomerang he varied his manner of throwing it. Sometimes he sent the weapon straight into the air; next he skimmed it along the ground, and next he launched at an angle of from forty to sixty degrees. Every time he threw it, it came back to his feet, but when he threw it at the coins in the stick it did not return.

"The interpreter explained to us that the return-boomerang was more of a toy than a weapon, as the regular boomerang cannot return when it has hit something in its course. Wonderful stories have been told of the use of this weapon in war,—how the black fellow will launch it two or three hundred yards, and have it kill one or more of his enemies, and then come back to his feet. A moment's thought will convince any one that the two things together are impossible. In order to return to the place whence it started, the boomerang must not encounter or even touch anything in its way. When it is used for killing men, or wild animals, it does not come back to the ground of its thrower.

"From all accounts that I am able to obtain, the boomerang as a weapon in the hands of a good thrower is very dangerous. It can be made to hit a man concealed behind a tree, rock, or house, where a gun or a spear could not possibly reach him. As a hunting weapon it is of great utility, and many a kangaroo has fallen before it. The skillful thrower, within reaching distance of a kangaroo or an emu, is as sure of his prey as a white man would be with a Winchester rifle."

Ned and Harry tried to learn from the performer when and by whom the boomerang was invented, and all they could get from him was, "Long time ago; who knows?" He threw a little light upon the subject by picking up a leaf of the gum tree, holding it at arm's length, and then letting it fall to the ground. It gyrated and changed its course as it descended. Then he picked it up and threw it straight from him, when it gyrated again and returned towards him. It is probable that the idea of the boomerang may have been taken from the motions of a falling leaf, and especially a leaf of the gum tree. As the weapon is known through all the tribes of Australian blacks, it is not likely to have been a recent invention.

"I have read somewhere," said Harry, "that a weapon similar to the boomerang was known to the ancient Egyptians, and that there is also something of the same sort in use among a tribe of Indians in Arizona. If it is true that the Egyptians of old times had this weapon, we may well repeat the oft-quoted saying, 'There is nothing new under the sun,' but it seems, at any rate, that the Australian boomerang is greatly superior to the Arizona one, as it can be projected very much further and with far more deadly effect."

The performer with the boomerang was evidently very well satisfied with his morning's work, and he was certainly very liberally paid for his performances. He invited our friends to take dinner with him, at least, so the interpreter said, though the youths were suspicious that the invitation was all a joke. Anyhow, they did not accept it, as they thought that the meal, with the surroundings which were visible, would have no temptation either for the eye or the appetite.

Harry heard the following story, which he duly entered in his notebook:—

"Once a lawyer undertook the defense of a black fellow who had been arrested for stealing a gold watch. The evidence was wholly circumstantial, as the stolen property had not been found, and the lawyer handled the case so well that the alleged thief was acquitted. A few hours after the trial, the lawyer was seated on the verandah of the principal hotel in the place, engaged in conversation with the magistrate before whom the case was tried, when along came the black fellow.

"'Can I wear the watch now?' said the black, at the same time drawing it forth from an inner pocket.

"The magistrate burst into a loud and hearty laugh. The lawyer laughed, too, but his laughter had a very hollow sound, and then he shouted an emphatic 'No!' to the confiding aboriginal."

Quite a little town had sprung up at the terminus of the railway, and Dr. Whitney said it reminded him of the towns along the Pacific railways of the United States during the course of their construction. The comparison, he said, was favorable to the Australian town, as the inhabitants seemed far more orderly than did those of the transitory American settlements. During the time of their stay there was not a single fight, and the coroner was not called upon to perform his usual official duties.

The terminus of the railway was in a valley which was dignified with the name of a creek, but no creek was visible. Water was supplied by an artesian well, driven to a depth of eight hundred feet. The water was slightly brackish but quite drinkable, and when it was made into tea or coffee the brackish flavor disappeared.

Our friends returned to Adelaide by the way they had gone from it, and after a day or two more in the capital of South Australia, they took the train for Melbourne. Ned made note of the fact that had been mentioned to him, that of all the money raised by taxation in South Australia, one fifth of it is used for educational purposes. He further added that the same was the case in all the colonies, and he thought it greatly to their credit. Harry said he did not believe there was a State or city in the whole American Union where such a large proportion of the public money was spent for educational matters.

The youths learned, in addition, that the schools throughout the colonies are, generally speaking, of excellent quality and the opportunities for higher education in academies, colleges, universities, medical and scientific institutions, and similar seats of learning, are of the best class. Ned made the following summary from the Education Act of South Australia:—

"Schools will be established where there is a certain number of children of school age, who will pay a moderate fee to the teachers; four pence for children under seven, and six pence for older children, per child, per week. In addition to the fees, the teachers will be paid by the government from seventy-five pounds to two hundred pounds per annum. Schoolhouses will be provided, and all the necessary educational material. Four and one half hours constitute the school day. All children of school age are required to be under instruction until a certain standard is reached."

Provision is made for the free instruction of children whose parents can show that they are unable to pay for it, but fees can be enforced in all cases where inability to pay them has not been proved. Large grants have been made by the legislature for school buildings, teachers' salaries, etc., in order to efficiently aid in the development of a thorough and comprehensive system of education for the young.

South Australia has a goodly number of schools for higher education, and it also has a university which is well attended. The majority of those who can afford it send their children to private schools rather than to the government ones, believing, and no doubt correctly, that the educational facilities are greater in the private institutions than in the public ones.



CHAPTER VII.

ADELAIDE TO MELBOURNE—THE RABBIT PEST—DANGEROUS EXOTICS.

The distance from Adelaide to Melbourne is about six hundred miles. Our friends found that the journey was made very leisurely, the trains averaging not more then eighteen or twenty miles an hour. For quite a distance out of Adelaide the train ascends an incline as far as Mount Lofty station, where the hill or mountain of that name is situated. On the way up the last of the incline our friends watched with a great deal of interest the plains stretching out below them, and the city which they had just left lying at their feet like a section of carpet laid off into ornamental squares. Beyond Mount Lofty station the route descended into the valley of the Murray River, whose waters could be seen winding like a thread through the yellow soil.

"This is the longest river in Australia, is it not?" queried Ned.

"Yes," replied the doctor, "it is the longest and largest river, and, as you have already learned, it is the only one that remains a real river throughout the year. Its mouth is not many miles from Adelaide, and a considerable part of its course is through South Australia."

"I wonder they didn't establish the capital city at the mouth of the Murray," remarked Harry; "they would have had the advantage of a navigable stream, which they have not in the present location."

"Yes, that is quite true," Dr. Whitney replied; "and they would have illustrated the saying of a philosopher, that great rivers nearly always run past large cities, but there was a practical difficulty in the way, of which you are not aware."

"What is it?"

"The Murray at its mouth has a bar that is very difficult and dangerous to cross, and a large area at its entrance consists of shallow water. The mouth of the river, furthermore, is swept by southerly winds, which bring in great waves that have their origin in the neighborhood of the South Pole. Consequently it was concluded that the location of the city at the place with the largest entrance into the sea would not be advantageous, and a location on Spencer's Gulf was considered preferable."

"Very good reasons," said Ned, "and I have no doubt that the founders of Adelaide acted wisely. They certainly have a very prosperous city where they are, although their seaport is several miles away."

The train increased its speed as it descended the incline, and the youths found plenty of occupation and amusement in studying the scenery on each side of them, and noting the handsome residences of the merchants and other well-to-do inhabitants of Adelaide. The river was crossed by means of an iron bridge, a substantial structure which was evidently built to last. After crossing the Murray, the railway proceeded for awhile along its valley, and gradually left it to enter a region of long-continued monotony.

"For hours in succession," said Harry in his journal, "we had little else but scrub. I imagine that when the surveyors laid out the railway line, they took their bearings by observation of the moon and stars, and laid it directly across from one side of the scrub country to the other. Scrub land is land covered with bushes. There are not many varieties of bushes, and this fact helps along the monotony. There is one bush that looks like an umbrella turned bottom upwards, and another that resembles an umbrella standing upright, as one holds it to keep off the rain. Then there are bushes and trees, some of them shaped like bottles, others like sugar loaves, and some like nothing else that I can think of at this moment. They vary from three or four feet in height up to fifteen and twenty feet, and sometimes we found them of a height of thirty feet or more.

"Mile after mile it is the same. I have heard what a terrible thing it is to be lost in the scrub. I can well understand that it is terrible, and can also understand how easily such a calamity could be brought about. One mile of scrub is exactly like another mile, or so very nearly like it that it is next to impossible to tell the difference. I have heard that people who stepped only a few yards from the side of the road have wandered for days before finding their way again, or have been sought for by many people before they were found. Many a man has lost his way in the scrub and never been heard of again, or perhaps years after his bones were discovered bleaching at the foot of a tree, where he had sat or lain down for his last rest when he could go no further."

A portion of the road from Adelaide to Sydney is called "the ninety-mile desert," in distinction from the rest of the scrub region. It was a great relief to any one to get out of this desert country, and reach the region of farms, and fences, cattle or sheep pastures, and cultivated fields. In some of the districts through which our travelers passed they saw great numbers of rabbits, and on calling attention to them, a gentleman who was in the railway carriage told them something about the rabbit pest from which the Australian colonies are suffering.

"If you want to make a fortune," said the gentleman, "find some way for destroying the rabbits in Australia. There is a standing reward of twenty-five thousand pounds (one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars of your money) for any method that proves successful. The reward is offered by the colony of New South Wales, and the other colonies will pay as much more."

"Were there rabbits in this country when it was first discovered?" Harry asked.

"There were no rabbits here," was the reply; "nor any animals like them. In 1851, a gentleman living near Dunedin, New Zealand, was on a visit to the old country, and it occurred to him that it would be a nice thing to have rabbits in New Zealand, so that they could amuse themselves by chasing the little creatures with dogs. On his return from England he brought seven rabbits, and they were the progenitors of all the rabbits in New Zealand, Australia, and Tasmania. For a few years, as fast as rabbits were obtainable they were distributed throughout the colonies, but it was not long before the distributors found out their mistake.

"The rabbits increased and multiplied at a terrific rate. How many there are now in the colonies, nobody can tell, as it is impossible to take a census of them, but they certainly amount to many millions. They have destroyed millions of acres of sheep pasturage, so that many farms which once supported great numbers of sheep have been deserted in consequence of the rabbits. Let me give you an illustration that I know about, as I was one of the sufferers by these vermin. Fifteen years ago, I owned an interest in a sheep run on the bank of the Murray River in the colony of Victoria. Our holding extended back into the dry and comparatively worthless country.

"The rabbits got in there, and gradually the sheep were starved out. Year by year the number diminished, and five years ago I sold my interest in the run for a very small sum. From two hundred thousand sheep, the number had diminished to twenty-five hundred, and these were dying in the paddock for want of food. The rabbits were the cause of the whole destruction. They had eaten up all the grass and edible bushes, and it was some consolation to know that they were themselves being starved out, and were dying by the hundreds daily. When the rabbits there are all dead the place can be fenced in, so that no new ones can get there, and it is possible that the grass will grow again, and the run once more become a place of value.

"The story I have just told you," the gentleman continued, "is the story of a great many sheep and cattle runs all over Australia and New Zealand. All sorts of means have been resorted to to get rid of the pest, and while some have been partially successful, none have been wholly so. The best plan is the old one, to lock the stable before the horse is stolen; that is, enclose the place with rabbit-proof fences before any rabbits have been introduced. The Australian rabbit is a burrowing animal, and unless the fence is set well into the ground, he is very apt to dig under it. Thus it has happened that many an estate has become infested, even though the owners had gone to the expense of enclosing it.

"Most of the cities of Australia and New Zealand have a rabbit-skin exchange, just as you have a cotton exchange in New York. At these exchanges ten or fifteen millions of rabbit skins are sold every year, or an aggregate perhaps of fifty or sixty millions, and yet the number does not decrease perceptibly. Factories have been established for preserving the meat of the rabbits in tin cans, and sending it to market as an article of food. It was thought that this would certainly reduce the number of rabbits, but it has not yet succeeded in doing so.

"Various kinds of apparatus have been devised for filling the dens of the rabbits with noxious gases that kill them, but the process is too expensive for general introduction; and, besides, it does not work well in rocky ground. Rewards are given both by the government and by the owners of land for the destruction of rabbits, and these rewards have stimulated men, who go about the country with packs of dogs to hunt down the rabbits for the sake of the bounty. Sometimes the whole population turns out in a grand rabbit hunt and thousands of rabbits are killed. Pasteur, the celebrated French chemist, proposed to destroy the rabbit population by introducing chicken cholera among them; he thought that by inoculating a few with the disease he could spread it among the others, so that they would all be killed off. He admitted that the chicken population would be killed at the same time, but none of us would object to that if we could get rid of the rabbits, as we could easily reintroduce domestic fowls."

Ned said that he wondered why the rabbits increased so rapidly in the Australian colonies and not in the United States or England.

"Here is the reason of it," said the gentleman. "In America there are plenty of wild animals, like wolves, weasels, foxes, ferrets, and the like, to keep down the rabbit population, but here there is not a single animal to interfere with them. They have no natural enemies whatever, and consequently have things entirely their own way. They breed several times a year and begin to breed very young, so that a pair of rabbits let loose in a given locality will in a few years amount to thousands or even to millions. There, look at that piece of ground and see what you think of it."

The boys looked where the gentleman indicated, and saw what seemed to be a field of tall grass or grain waving in the wind. A nearer inspection showed that the ground was covered with rabbits, and it was the movements of the animals that caused the illusion just described.

"Rabbits are not the only pests from which the colonies have suffered," the gentleman continued; "I will tell you about more of them.

"You must bear in mind," said their informant, "that when Australia was settled it contained very few of the products, either animal or vegetable, of other parts of the world. Among the animals there were no noxious ones except the dingo, or wild dog, which was found in various parts of the country. His origin has been a matter of conjecture, some believing that he is descended from dogs which were left here by those who discovered the continent, while others think he is indigenous to the soil. All the other animals, and they were not numerous, were harmless in their character. There are eight kinds of kangaroos, all of them herbivorous. They are, as you are doubtless aware, marsupials, that is, they carry their young in a pouch until they are able to run about by themselves. The dingo lived by feeding on the kangaroos, and thus kept down the number of those animals.

"Horned cattle, horses, and sheep were introduced and successfully raised. The wild dogs killed sheep and calves, and therefore the inhabitants set about killing them. As the dogs decreased in number the kangaroos increased, and they threatened to drive the sheep to starvation by eating up all the grass. Many a sheep run was rendered worthless by the kangaroos, and so it became necessary to establish methods of reducing the number of the latter. Battues or hunts were organized, the people gathering from all directions at an appointed time and place, and driving the kangaroos into pens or yards, where they were slaughtered by the thousand. You will probably have an opportunity of seeing a kangaroo hunt before you leave Australia.

"There were very few native fruits, and we introduced the fruits of England and other parts of the world very successfully. We introduced garden plants and vegetables in great numbers, and nearly all of them turned out to our satisfaction, though this was not uniformly the case.

"You know that innocent and very acceptable plant called the watercress, which is sold in great quantities for table use in London, New York, and other English and American cities. Well, we brought the watercress to the Australian colonies, and it grew and thrived wonderfully. It grew altogether too well and thrived a great deal more than we could have wished, as it has choked our rivers, and caused freshets and floods which have devastated farms and fields to a large extent, and on several occasions have been destructive to human life.

"We introduced the sweet briar, thinking it would form an ornament and fill the air with its perfume. Instead of being ornamental, it has become an impenetrable bush, which neither man nor cattle can go through. It has become a nuisance, spreading over the ground and destroying pasturage, and we heartily wish that not a twig of it was ever brought here.

"When we began to grow fruits we found ourselves annoyed by insects of various kinds, the same sort of insects that are known to fruit growers everywhere. In order to get rid of them, we brought the English sparrow here. He is of great use to the fruit grower in the old country, as he lives principally on insects, or at any rate has the reputation of doing so, and he does not often attack the fruit.

"Well, we got the sparrow here, and he increased and multiplied until he became very numerous, and what do you suppose the little wretch did?

"He did not do anything that we wanted him to do. He abandoned his English practise of eating insects, and lived wholly upon grain and fruit. In the fruit season he is a perfect terror in the devastation he makes among our fruit trees. A flock of sparrows will make its appearance in a cherry garden where there are twenty, fifty, or perhaps a hundred cherry trees bending beneath a burden of fruit just about ripe enough to be picked. They save the owner the trouble and expense of picking his fruit, as they take entire charge of it, and in a few days the whole crop is ruined. Other fruit suffers in the same way, and the testimony is the same from all parts of Australia. One of the colonial governments had an investigation of the subject at one time, and the testimony was something appalling. The sparrows abound here in countless millions, all of them descended from fifty birds that were imported about the year 1860. The owners of vineyards, as well as the fruit farmers, complain of the ravages of the sparrows, and at the official investigation that I mentioned one vine grower testified that his crop of grapes the previous year would have been two tons, but the sparrows destroyed the entire lot.